Growing Up

On my other blog, when I have talked about Soccergirl, I have mentioned that at age eight (nearly nine), she doesn't have a lot of little girl time left. Although she isn't done being a little girl (not with the constant bombardment of "Spongebob" that we deal with), there are little things that creep in that tell us that she is growing up. Sometimes it is the use of a new word... sometimes it is doing something that she loved last week, and she tells you this week that it's "for little kids, daddy".

The little things sort of flow around you, because, well, they are little. Every now and a gain, you get to a major thing. A few weeks ago, Soccergirl got out of the bathtub (she was in the master bath in the big soaker tub) and came into the master bedroom. She saw me there and immediately shriekd and covered herself with a towel.

That's right, folks... the first instance of modesty.